


Going Rogue

by huskseverywhere



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, Organized Crime, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, References to Depression, Secret Organizations, Slow Burn, Spectre Kaidan Alenko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huskseverywhere/pseuds/huskseverywhere
Summary: London post war was not a safe place. With hundreds of female civilians going missing in the space of two weeks, an ex colony security manager is tasked with finding out the truth. With roadblock after roadblock, a certain human spectre is tasked to help with the enquiries, making her question her chosen path in life. Post destroy ending.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian, Kaidan Alenko/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Human Character(s)/Original Male Human Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	Going Rogue

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any spelling errors/grammar. Please note this is also posted over on ff as well under the same name.
> 
> I had an idea... well which is always dangerous. Wanted to practice writing again too, so what better way other than to create a character and start a brand new story after the war? I see a lot of stuff written during the series itself but I wanted to create a world which was dangerous and unsafe. I have 100% taken creative liberties so I'll see where that takes me.
> 
> I do not own anything Mass Effect related.

“One double rum coming your way.”

The jovial, East End London accent cut through the idle chatter from the pub; a mix of casual conversations to raucous antics caused mostly by Alliance soldiers. An older man who had spoken nodded at his customer before he walked from one end of the pub counter to the opposite one to grab a small glass tumbler. With almost a bounce in his step, he turned around and rested it on a spill pad. The countertop itself was fashioned out of scavenged metal crudely welded together to fuse a relatively level surface. The universal attitude of all of those still alive in London was a mantra once used during the great wars: ‘make do and mend’.

However there was that attitude, then the attitude of ‘survive by any means necessary’.

The young woman the man was serving pondered this whilst she watched the man pour her double measure of rum.  _ Where _ the alcohol came from was one of her many questions she had but she didn’t dare ask knowing that the answer wasn’t going to be probably something she should be privy to. The Red Lion pub had only been open for five days and so far the woman was enjoying a friendly relationship with the pub landlord who also happened to give her a free drink every now and then. She didn’t want to sour that relationship just yet by asking pushy questions about the acquisition of drinks. It was hard to not ask awkward questions as since the pub had opened there was always a new spirit in, or something had completely run out of stock. Tonight for the woman, it was her turn to drink rum for the first time since before the war.

She watched the bartender set the rum bottle down behind him on an eye level metal makeshift shelf before he swiftly turned back to the countertop, picking up the glass before walking it down to her. With a small nod of appreciation, the woman brought up her left hand and her omni tool before she pressed a few buttons. It shut down and she looked up from her wrist and reached out for the glass before she spoke. 

“I sent you a small tip Tony, should cover the amount of time I’ve been in here since opening.” The woman was well spoken, her English accent not giving away a hint as to her home within the country.

The older man laughed aloud with a deep chuckle. The wrinkles on his face growing deeper with his happy facial expression. “Please Iona, you’ve caused me no trouble at all. Things have been great since opening, I finally feel almost back to my old self and I’m back doing my normal job again. What’s not to like?”

The younger woman looked up at the man with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips which partially brightened her typically gloomy exterior. She still looked tired with dark circles underneath her hazel eyes. Her partially ashy blonde and brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail which was the best she could do after wearing a helmet the whole day. “I’m really glad you’re starting to feel better about things mate, honestly as long as you keep the bar stocked and security well paid you’ll be fine. Besides I’ll try and see if I can try and get our patrol route to come out here every now and again.”

“That’s really kind of you, but I know you’re already stretched enough as it is. I wouldn’t worry about checking in to see if  _ this place _ is still standing though.”

_ This place _ didn’t feel like just a drinking hole. It felt homely to Iona as it still had the soul of what she remembered London pubs to be, just this one was patched up with new components. In keeping with the typical ‘make do and mend’ mantra; boxes and crates had been used in some instances so people could sit down or use them for tables. With no police force around to enforce a non smoking policy, there was always the faint smell of cigarettes wherever you ended up sitting. Some of the original features remained in the pub with the bar stools made of the typical red wood style with a low back to them. The flooring was also its original dark wood and the walls were exposed red brick with some traditionally old and tatty beer coasters stuck to it crudely. The Red Lion had stood for hundreds of years within the city and somehow, like a fossil, it had lived on through the war.

“Yeah but people need an outlet. Soldiers have got somewhere to go without picking through rubble and looting homes to find a bottle of something to drink. Civilians have somewhere to blow off steam with mates. We can’t let anything happen to you or this place.” Iona grasped the glass tighter and brought it to her lips to take a large gulp of what she believed to be spiced rum. It initially burned her throat for a second, the shock making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She’d stopped wincing at the initial discomfort of a first drink a few days ago as she had gotten used to drinking large amounts of spirits. Whatever was in stock at the pub which was strong enough, she’d drink. The taste of spices warmed her senses and she immediately felt lighter,  _ relieved _ almost at her first drink of the day. She cleared her throat and set the glass down in front of her.

_ Definitely proper rum, _ she mused to herself,  _ how on earth does he get this stuff? _

“It’s improved morale in the area don’t get me wrong,” Tony paused and shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, “but the people are so unhappy. There’s not enough food not to mention there’s loads of rumours flying round about the Alliance. Oh and all that shit you’re currently dealing with at work with the women going- ah hang on.”

Iona had watched Tony’s face look down to the other end of the bar to see a bunch of squaddies stood together waiting to be served and were definitely rowdy from the few drinks they’d had. She looked back to Tony and gave him a light nod. “Duty calls, off you pop.” 

“I’ll come back when I get a minute. Think I might be there a while judging from their states. Want me to get you another one whilst I do their drinks?”

Her eyes looked down at her glass and she noted she had already drank half of it in the gulp she had earlier.  _ Already?  _ She thought to herself.  _ Shitting hell Iona, but whatever _ . “Yeah please mate, actually two more doubles. Can put them in the same glass if you want since I know your glassware and water allowance is precious to you.”

Tony let out a light chuckle, shaking his head to himself. He walked down to the other end of the bar to serve Alliance soldiers, sighing to himself before mentally gearing himself to serve the group of lads. Iona didn’t envy him as she couldn’t think of anything worse than dealing with drunken arrogant Alliance soldiers all the time. Her eyes trailed down at her glass, using her right hand to lightly swirl the rum that was left. She’d calculated when on shift earlier in the day, she had been in the bar eighteen hours of her life since it opened five days previously. Any normal person would’ve known that this was a bad slope to go down, however Iona’s slant was very different. She saw it as time alone and to herself for once. It was understandable, at least to her, as to why she was there but there was always an inner voice she needed to justify her visits to every time.

She  _ needed _ time away from work to recharge. The surviving members of the Arcturus First Division had spent almost every waking hour together for months solid. Now she felt as if she had earned the right to have time to herself. It just so happened that for five nights in a row she had gotten absolutely bladdered. A lot of military personnel had the same idea; which usually involved celebrations that they were still alive or some just drowned their sorrows after the horrors of the war. The remaining forces were stretched so thin across the planet helping with the relief efforts, let alone whatever was happening across the galaxy. Things like The Red Lion had come as a welcome relief and given people an outlet, as well as a sense of normality again.

It was strange, she didn’t realise how much that something as simple as a pub reopening would do wonders for the morale of soldiers who were probably sick of shovelling graves for corpses all day. The weeks after the destruction of the Reaper threat had been catastrophic for people’s mental wellbeing.

Iona took a smaller swig of the rum, before raising the glass upwards to catch some of the last rays of spring sunshine coming through the window to her right. Her hazel eyes looked at the sun beams reflecting off the glass on to the wall. Small moments such as this made her feel thankful that she was still alive. Iona would’ve been the first to admit that sometimes it didn’t feel like much of a life with little downtime, completely cut off from the rest of the galaxy and trapped on a planet which was her birthplace but not her home. 

A small grumble suddenly came from her stomach which made Iona aware that she hadn’t eaten in a few hours. Her face felt oddly warm already, feeling a tipsy red blush spreading across her lightly tanned yet freckled face. She felt  _ good _ for once.

“And what’s a pretty girl like you doing here?”

The feeling that she had momentarily enjoyed soon disappeared as a voice cut into her thoughts. She couldn’t hide her reaction either with her eyes rolling back into her head and her full lips pressing together tightly. After a few seconds of quiet she allowed her face to resume it’s usual protocol; completely blank and almost pissed off looking. Iona looked to where the voice came from which was to her left. It was a human male, possibly around her age of twenty eight, who had come up to the bar but he barely left half a metre between them. His hand was placed on the empty bar chair next to her ready to take a cue to sit down. She noted he wore alliance armour and surveyed him suspiciously, her eyes narrowing at him. He was tall, sounded like he was from America but couldn’t pinpoint where exactly. He was tanned and traditionally handsome with a chiselled jaw. His dirty blonde hair seemed messy and she smelt vodka leaking from his mouth. Iona noted that he had been in the pub when she entered, with a small group of other soldiers towards the back of the place.

If this has been a few years ago she would’ve jumped at the chance to chat with someone at a bar especially if they looked as handsome as this man. Iona was enjoying her time to herself and had no massive interest in speaking to anyone bar Tony that night. She gulped slightly as she thought about how truly unsafe London was at the moment with no police force and just a bunch of reservists and Alliance soldiers helping out. She saw the figures, knew the stats; London was especially unsafe for women. Theoretically even if London was safe, she just didn’t want that kind of life anymore with bar culture as the whole war had put a complete change of perspective on her. She couldn’t recognise herself anymore, especially reflecting on where she was then compared to a year ago.

“I’ve finished work.” She replied dryly, raising her voice and speaking slowly to take the piss subtly. She raised her glass of rum to her lips and took another small swig. She was dangerously close to running out of alcohol.

“Is that merc work?” He asked cautiously. The soldier had not detected her obvious enough ‘leave me alone’ attitude. The man nodded towards her body, his eyes lingering on her figure longer than Iona had hoped for.

She had tried to keep internally optimistic that maybe less people would disturb her if she came straight from work with her armour on, assault rifle, shotgun and pistol strapped to her. The armour she wore was a pale grey with no obvious indications of what she did for work upon it. This was the first encounter she had for five days where someone had approached her to speak to her. It was almost a weird silent code between the clientele that if you were sat at the bar you  _ wanted  _ to be left alone. 

With a sharp intake of breath she replied to the soldier quickly, dropping her sarcasm tactic and swapping it for one of bluntness. “No. I work in civilian security actually.”

The man blinked deeply, the smell of vodka actually making Iona feel slightly queasy. He was definitely drunk. “Civilian security? Is that like making sure the refugee camps are all good?”

_ Just leave me alone, Jesus Christ can’t you tell I’m not fucking interested?  _ She thought to herself before she took her last swig of her rum and set the glass down. Iona looked from her glass to the man making eye contact with him hoping that this would make him very uncomfortable. Her tipsy blush felt as if it was setting her face on fire.

“I’m not really in a chatty mood and I’d like to be alone.”

The soldier laughed loudly before shaking his head at her, almost smirking at what she said. “I was just making conversation princess, relax a little bit. I’m not scary.”

The problem was that now she did actually feel a little bit scared, she just didn’t want to admit that to herself. She felt her foot tap on the bar stool leg in agitation repetitively as she tried to work out a way to get out of the current situation. Iona wanted to be on her own and just drink and wallow in her own self pity before she would stumble back to her bunk half cut, then all of her colleagues would wonder how yet again she got herself in that state in the space of a few hours. She sighed again, staring him down and maintaining her composure the best she could. “Then make conversation elsewhere.”

The Alliance soldier chuckled to himself in an almost condescending tone, inching slightly closer to her. “Tough girl, not many of you around these days. Women just ball their fucking eyes out all the damn time.”

Iona couldn’t hide her visible disgust at this statement with her mouth hanging open slightly and her body inching back and away from the soldier in her chair. _ Of course people are going to fucking cry we just basically got through the apocalypse and basically 80% of humanity is dead. What is his problem?  _

“Are you suggesting that being upset about the whole war is stupid? I mean it pretty much seemed as if we were all going to die at a few points unless we weren’t fighting the same battles.” Iona pulled her expression into a frown which made it appear that she was almost snarling at the man.

“Well, it is kinda dumb. We won didn’t we?”

Her last nerve was officially gone and all attempts at being polite were well out of the window. The soldier’s arrogance made her feel slightly disgusted that people like this actually still existed. The tipsy feeling made her words fall out of her mouth so bluntly and loudly a few customers around her also heard it. “Well, you're boring me to death. So please fuck off and leave me alone.”

The man’s face morphed into something horrible and cold, formulating once more into a smirk. A smirk so horrible and crooked that it made her skin crawl. “Why are you being so fucking rude? Just wanted to talk to you and buy you a drink and see where the night takes us,” he paused and shook his head at her, “you’ve been in here a lot, at least every time I’m in here you’re on your own just chatting to the bartender. The war’s over now so people should be mingling and having fun.”

Iona turned her head away, looking dead on at the bar back. She saw the empty bottles of liquor stacked and wondered if Tony would object to her just taking a bottle right then and slamming it over the guy’s head. The Red Lion had felt like a weird second home up until this point. No one had spoken to her and everyone left her well alone which was just how she liked it. She enjoyed sitting down, chatting crap with Tony and collecting her thoughts.

“There’s a brothel down the street mate for that sort of thing, I’m not  _ fucking _ interested.”

There was a horrible cold silence lingering between them whilst Iona continued to look at the bar back, her foot tapping harder against the chair leg. The soldier shifted himself slightly before Iona heard a noise which sounded as if a gun had been prepared for use. She moved her eyes down to see a pistol pointing up into her abdomen.

_ Fucks sake. _

“My bunk is only around the corner,” he slurred with his face inching closer to Iona’s ear, “I suggest you come with me.”

Her foot stopped tapping as she felt breath against her ear. It was warm and swiftly the smell of stale vodka made her feel more queasy than before. Iona looked from the gun back up at his face which was now inches away. She couldn’t hide the vicious look in her eye and the look of sheer anger which had swarmed across her face. The man’s own angry look faltered as he had expected her to appear frightened. The look had made him panic himself. Her pulse quickened as adrenaline released into her body.  _ Fight or flight _ .

They stared down at each other in their own world. In the busy bar no one was paying enough attention. To anyone who didn’t know the situation it simply looked as if there was a small lover’s tiff going on.

Iona did not flinch.

“No.” She stated harshly. Her eyes were suddenly light up by a pale blue; flowing through her body to make the kinetic shield of her armour visible. She had shown her true biotic self to the man. “Now then  _ solider, _ I suggest you leave here or I’ll blow you sky fucking high. Understand?”

The man took a small step back, pistol still firmly pointed at her, but with his body shielding this from anyone around. He looked visibly disgusted. “Oh you’re one of  _ them _ , I’m not interested in your type anyw-.”

“Then fuck off. Go back to your table and book a visit to the brothel. I heard Elira is the best girl there for men with simple tastes.” She barked back.

The soldier took a step back with his pistol still pointed at Iona before he quickly holstered it. In return she calmed her biotics, her hazel eyes still firmly on the man. It felt like an age before the man staggered away, taking his wounded pride back to his Alliance soldier friends at the back of the pub. She could feel her heart threatening to fly out of her chest, palpitations and anxiousness almost completely overtaking every part of her body and mind.

“Iona!” Tony shouted, running over to the area of the bar top where she was sat. “Why you gotta use biotics in here like that-”

“He threatened me.” Iona choked out, her voice slightly trembling and her facial expression confused more than anything. She looked back to Tony before she then looked to her left wrist, bringing up her omni tool. With the press of a few buttons, crystal clear sound of a gun being prepared to fire and the man speaking played out.

“My bunk is only around the corner, I suggest you come with me.”

She shook her head to herself and returned her wrist to her side, her omni tool disappearing from sight. Tony looked at her with unease, not quite knowing what to say in that moment. 

“See Tony, not my fault,” she sighed loudly, bringing herself back into her almost cold usual demeanor, “maybe I need to start being more careful. Everyone keeps telling me to be but that’s the first weird pub experience I’ve had since you’ve opened up.”

“You want me to get him out of here?” Tony’s voice was wrought with hesitation and he sighed. He looked to the back of the pub where he spotted the table with the drunk soldier and gave a hard stare for a second trying to remember the man's face for future reference.

She shook her head quickly. “It’s fine, I can handle myself. Besides I don’t want to scare off half of your client base, although I wouldn’t expect them to be that insistent. I was however too disgusting for him with my biotics that he didn’t want me anyway.”

“You’re also not disgusting, just people can’t understand some things. But as long as you’re okay, I’ll still keep a tab on him and his pals.”

She gave a small exasperated smile of appreciation to Tony. “As long as you’re sure about that. Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t be too offended by what he said as it’s getting rarer now with the anti-biotic stance. Especially with the amount of help you guys were in the war.” 

“Yeah I suppose you’re right.”

There was a few seconds of silence before Tony spoke again. “Iona can we also discuss that you recorded that? Do you record everything that happens to you?”

_ Oh yeah, shit, _ her tipsy brain had just shown the pub owner what she could be like. She groaned lightly and ran her right hand over her head. “I only record audio if I’m not with other people that I know. You never know when trouble could hit. Or it could just be just intense paranoia with everything that’s going on at the moment.”

There sat a slightly awkwardness in the air over her statement. A few seconds passed before Tony spoke again. “Ah yeah the drinks Iona, I’ll get you them now.”

She nodded back at Tony and looked dead on at the bottles in front of her. She had assumed that all of the alcohol had been scavenged from the surrounding area but was also intrigued as to why the pub owner had kept all of the bottles. Iona had been told he was a civilian originally but still, everything seemed a little off in how he acquired these provisions. Looting across London was commonplace with almost everyone turning a blind eye to it; whether it be for items that you personally needed or things to sell in the makeshift markets nearby. 

Iona’s thoughts shifted to the pub landlord himself. She’d always noticed that it was just him working in the pub with no other bar staff. He had acquired a few security staff who she had been informed were often off duty Alliance soldiers looking for some extra credits.

“Quadruple rum, one glass because you care about my damn water allowance,” Tony set it down in front of her and she raised her wrist again to use her omni tool to pay him, “oh no don’t be daft. On the house for dealing with that massive tosser and not actually killing someone in the pub. That’s always a good start.”

Her eyes moved from her omni tool to his own eyes with slight disbelief. “You sure mate?”

“Absolutely. If you did actually hurt one of these guys it would be very bad for business but at least you know and care enough about my pub to not fuck it up too much. As long as you don’t drink it quicker than 30 minutes, otherwise I won’t serve you again tonight.”

Iona almost snatched the glass before bringing it up to her quickly and swigging from it. She almost coughed at how much she took that time. She set it down and looked up at Tony who was now free of people to serve. Her eyes wandered to her right to a window to watch the golden sunset seep in.

“Alliance think they’re shit hot as soon as Commander Shepard killed the Reapers,” Iona began, “I mean she’s probably getting her bones melded back together at this point whilst squaddies think about their next fuck.”

There was a pause whilst Tony propped himself up at the bar back, folding his arms and also looking out of the window, also admiring the golden hues which painted some colour upon the derelict city. In this reflective pause, Iona took her left hand to her right hip where a leather belt with a small bag attached was. She reached into it, bringing out a pack of cigarettes and a silver lighter. Placing them on the bar counter she opened the box and noted she had only eleven cigarettes left before she pulled one out and brought it to her lips.

“Still can’t believe they found her in the rubble of the Citadel. Alive even.” Tony mused aloud.

With a click of the silver lighter, Iona brought the flame to the end of the cigarette, breathing in deeply before setting the lighter down on the bar top. Tony looked back at her before moving from his position, unfolding his arms and reaching under the counter for a small ashtray and placing it on the countertop. She nodded her appreciation.

“Shepard is a very tough lady, killed once and now this? So ridiculously against the odds.” Iona took her glass to her mouth and took a small gulp of her drink before setting it back down and taking another drag of her cigarette. “I heard the Normandy docked in Vancouver a few days ago, not sure how true it all is.”

“I heard that too via the vids. It would be one hell of a debrief to listen to, I'll tell you that,” Tony shifted uncomfortably again, scratching the back of his head, “but speaking of debriefs and military crap, I don’t suppose I can ask how the missing women thing is going?”

Iona winced knowing that Tony was referring to an incident she had mentioned to him when drunk a few nights earlier. She knew that she definitely shouldn’t have mentioned it but everyone seemed to have an inkling of something going on. The civilians definitely knew, it was pretty easy to know that women were going missing from the area as there weren’t that many civilians to begin with. She looked up at him from her cigarette and nodded, taking a quick drag. “Not great to be honest, there’s not a lot else I can tell you Tony. It’s pretty hush hush but civvies know something’s wrong.”

“Like you can’t say anything or that there’s no progress?”

“I mean we’re pretty sure it’s the same band of mercs that keep trying to steal everyone’s food rations. Otherwise there’s not much more I can say about this mate, at least for the time being.”

“Nah don’t worry. You’re doing all that you can, at least before the City of London Police is back up and running. Are you still considering their offer?”

_ The offer _ . Iona had forgotten all about that. The Arcturus First Division was being disbanded soon with most civilians taking work on Earth before any sort of travel or communication to Benning was going to happen. The lack of space worthy ships, coupled with almost every comm buoy down meant that she had no idea what had happened there. The division had already lost 13 of the surviving squad to such roles; a husband and wife vet duo had gone up north to help with getting the farms back up and running again, a few builders had started to help with areas of London; even some of the regular civilians had decided to join up with the Alliance full time. Iona’s offer of work was different but it was kind of similar to her previous role on Benning but with a different name. The City of London police had made her an offer to join either as a beat sergeant or as a detective. The force itself had been truly decimated and martial law was still very much in place country wide. Only nineteen police workers had survived the war and in order to get the force up and running they were in need of those with previous training in security just so it would speed up the whole boots-on-the-ground process. 

“Yeah, I mean a little bit. I just feel a bit uneasy,” she sighed, taking another drag of her cigarette and a gulp of her drink. She was starting to get drunk now as her words flowed out of her with some animation, “I want to go back to Joughin though at the end of the day, it was my home as much as London was my birth place. I’d been living there for ten years I think. I mean I didn’t even want to be put here in the first place but the call went out for more ground troops in London. Then look what happened: four hundred of us came here and only twenty seven of us survived. One of which is an Alliance soldier!”

“I remember you telling me that. Madness isn’t it when reservists get called up to the front lines, then you know something is really wrong.”

“I’m not even a reservist though, I was a security manager. I just got told I’d be going to Earth to help out with the main push, leaving the other biotics on Benning to help there.”

“Ah sorry, I keep thinking that you are Alliance sometimes by half the crap you say. You speak like a soldier. But you’d also make a fine police officer as well.”

She took another swig of her drink before she pulled her cigarette up to her lips, a small smile brightening her face. “Thanks Tony, that means a lot.”

“No problem. Maybe you know, you should bring the other reservists in here when you’ve all got some time off?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What, so you can make money out of us?”

“Not just that, but maybe some actual downtime with them might be good for you. Especially if you’re all getting moved about soon.”

“Potentially, I mean-”

Iona was interrupted by the noise of her omni tool on her wrist. She looked at it before she pressed a few buttons, bringing up the comm system into a small concealed earpiece. Iona flicked ash off the cigarette into Tony’s provided ashtray and cleared her lungs for the call.

“Cohen here.”

“Iona,” she heard her colleagues' voice and the sound of faint gunfire in the background. Her eyes widened, “we need backup asap!”

“What’s going on Jacobs?”

“Mercs are trying to get at the food cache. There’s us ten and a handful of off duty Alliance soldiers without armour which is nowhere near enough. Alliance forces can’t get here for another ten minutes.”

“I can be there in five minutes Jacobs, hold on!”

She turned the tool off and quickly took another drag off the cigarette. Using her left hand she picked up her glass and slammed the drink back quickly, almost polishing it off in one gulp. Iona quickly went for another drag of her cigarette.

“Something up?” Tony asked.

“I’m on call, things aren’t good at camp. Keep an eye on the doors tonight Tony as this means something bad is happening again. Pay your security more or just do something alright? Hopefully I’ll be back.”

“Woah woah woah, you’re on call? I wouldn't have let you drink if I knew that!”

She took her last swig of her drink and another quick drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. With a large almost pissed smile she spoke again. “And that’s the reason why you will ever know when I am on call.”

Iona quickly left, bounding through the front door as quickly as her feet could carry her. She turned right and aimed herself towards central Covent Garden, sprinting across whatever debris was around. The tipsy feeling churned inside of her as she tried to run in a straight line towards the location. In her mind all she could think about was how on earth the food cache had been found again despite it being moved on a regular basis. The attacks on supplies were starting to become more frequent but with the regular movement of the food cache, she had placed all hopes on it being safe. She couldn’t help but to feel as if these mercs were always one step ahead knowing where everything was.

As she turned a corner into the street where the food was stored, hidden in some shops outside of the main Covent Garden market, she felt her lungs tighten almost too much to the point where she started to struggle to breathe normally. The location of the food stores was in an unassuming old shop building. There were never any guards outside to make the building blend in. All of the security was on the inside. The inconspicuous building had a few crates and burned out skycars outside to use as barriers just in case worst came to the worst. All of her training had told her that these locations she had picked for the food caches should’ve been enough to keep them safe.  _ Something wasn’t right _ . Iona unhooked her vindicator assault rifle and mentally primed herself to shoot on sight, running further down the street and closer to where she could hear gunfire. 

She was maybe two blocks away and the alcohol was starting to hit her hard. Sweat gleamed off her forehead as she struggled to keep her speed as quick as it was.

As the street curved round, she saw the mercs attacking down the long yet narrow street. She stopped herself short of running any further towards the action, pulling herself down into a crouched position with her gun close to her chest. Iona could see short bursts of gunfire coming from the debris closest to the building entrance.

She attempted to collect herself for a second, taking deep breaths to try and calm her body and nerves. Iona felt physically on fire from the running and adrenaline pumping through her system. The alcohol clogged her brain as she tried to work out how to engage the mercs. From peaking upwards at the mercs who were no more than two hundred metres away, she could see that Arcturus were clearly keeping them at bay but there was very little progress being made on holding them back. She sensed that perhaps there needed to be a diversion, in her mind that was the most logical thing to do. Iona sighed and attempted to calm and centre her mind before she felt the familiar sense of buzzing overtaking her and a blue aura becoming visible upon her body.

In her tipsy brain, Iona had decided it was a good idea to biotic charge at them.


End file.
